


Words Unspoken

by Justaway_Ninja



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Angst, Gen, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:08:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26283922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justaway_Ninja/pseuds/Justaway_Ninja
Summary: Skyfire didn’t have to follow the trail of bleeding energon for long before he found Starscream at the other end.Written for Skystar Week 2020. Day 4 prompt: Intimacy and vulnerability
Relationships: Skyfire/Starscream (Transformers)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 59
Collections: SkyStar Week 2020





	Words Unspoken

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to @OverlordRaax for organising the event!

Skyfire didn’t have to follow the trail of bleeding energon for long before he found Starscream at the other end.

To describe the Seeker as a mess would be putting it kindly. The jet was struggling through the valley, half-crawling, half-dragging a limp and useless leg behind him. Even from this distance, Skyfire could see the horrific gash on the Seeker’s midriff – the main source of the energon trail. He didn’t need to look closer to know it was a fusion blast.

Only a cannon was capable of that kind of damage. 

Was it a trap? He wondered, transforming in the air to consider Starscream’s lonely signal, blipping quietly on his scanners. A little over a cycle ago, Teletraan-1 had reported a surge of Decepticon activity in the area, paired with reports of abnormal seismic readings. Skyfire had volunteered to scout. The distance was far, but he had flown as quickly as he could, yet already the area appeared strangely deserted. Aside from the Seeker on the ground, there was no evidence of any other Decepticons ever having been here at all.

He glanced at the Seeker again. Perhaps the Cons were up to something, or perhaps it was just another exaggerated internal scuffle. Skyfire was leaning towards the latter. There was no other reason for them to leave their Second-in-Command behind in such a state.

Below him, Starscream continued to struggle onwards, his crimson frame carving an oddly determined path through the valley. His movements though, were sluggish, and the drunken weave of his frame were indicative of imminent stasis - or perhaps something worse. Skyfire watched him, his logic circuits coldly reminding him to stay back, while the more instinctive core of his Spark ached with the wrongness of standing by. 

_Do something_ , it whispered, urgently. Desperately. _It’s Starscream down there, for Primus’ sake! It’s Starscream!_

He stopped that line of thought before it went too far. It felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. Starscream was an enemy.

 _Exactly_ , said his logic circuits, with calculating efficiency. _You’ve seen him burn through enough grudges at the Academy to know how he would treat you now. He’s armed, and he’s dangerous. You wouldn’t stand a chance._

Yes. That was true. Even with that injury he knew he wouldn’t be able to confidently take on the Decepticon air commander alone. It would be better to wait for Optimus or Prowl to arrive. He could fix the Seeker up once they were here. Once he wasn’t on his own. It would certainly be much easier with someone watching his back. After all, the Seeker was notoriously –

At that moment, Starscream’s remaining leg gave out beneath him.

Skyfire dived without even thinking. 

Of course, he didn’t make it in time. He had never been built for speed. By the time he had transformed, the Decepticon was already struggling to his feet. And when he finally landed, the null rays were already pointed and primed, even as the Seeker’s frame swayed with exhaustion.

Their optics met. Starscream’s face twisted in startled recognition. “You –!” 

Then he promptly fell back on to his knees, moaning softly.

Instinctively, Skyfire reached out, fingers just managing to ghost over the other’s air vents. But Starscream simply snarled and jerked out of his reach, his battered wings flaring as though to shield himself from the Autobot’s intrusive optics. Not that it did him much good, because there really was no hiding the extent of his damage. His cockpit was lined with spiderweb cracks, sparks jumping from the exposed wires where his plating had been torn. On his left side was the great gash, charred black around the edges and still oozing energon over a tell-tale grey smear that did not belong to any colour on the Seeker’s frame.

Skyfire sucked in a cycle of air. “What –?”

“Don’t touch me!” hissed the Decepticon, tearing an energon-crusted hand away from his side to jab his null ray into the shuttle’s chest. “What are _you_ doing here?!”

The shuttle jerked back. The logic circuits kicked in now, reminding him harshly of just how dangerous a null ray could be. “I picked up a signal,” he answered truthfully, taking a wary step back. “I came here to investigate it, that’s all. I didn’t think I’d find y –”

He stopped. The null ray had moved away, though not quite voluntarily. Instead, it retreated, quivering, back to the Seeker’s wounded side. Fresh energon welled through desperately clasped fingers, and Skyfire watched, stricken, and helpless. For a moment, Starscream continued to glare at him, the last embers of defiance burning in his crimson optics. Then he bowed his head and curled in on himself with a defeated whimper.

Instantly, Skyfire was down there with him, prying the Seeker’s hands away. “Starscream. Let me see –”

“I said don’t touch –!” protested the Seeker, writhing against the Autobot’s more powerful grip. “S-Stop! It hurts– _Frag_!”

“It’s only hurting because you’re moving so much,” responded the shuttle firmly, and felt no shame in using his significant power advantage to pin the Seeker down against a nearby tree. “You have to stay _still_ , Starscream, or else you’ll just start bleeding again.”

“Get – _hnngh_ – away from me!” snarled the jet, still struggling viciously. Despite his smaller size and weakened state, his strength was surprising. It gave Skyfire’s logic circuits just enough time to remind him, once again, not to underestimate the Decepticon.

And then a cobalt fist smashed itself squarely into his faceplates.

The Autobot yelped, and fell back hard, dragging the Seeker down with him. When the static in his vision finally cleared, he saw Starscream crumpled on the ground, curled around his wound. The Seeker’s mouth hung faintly open, optics glazed over in agony, his fans whining.

When Skyfire approached him this time, there was no more bravado. Just a fresh pool of energon and a sound that was more of a plea than a threat. 

“You idiot,” sighed the shuttle, and knelt down besides the fallen Decepticon, pulling a medical kit from his subspace as he did so. “Here, look,” he said, slowly, carefully, as though coaxing a wild animal, “I’m trying to help, alright? If you let me into your connection port, I can upload some temporary pain relief protocols that might make you feel a little better.”

Starscream said nothing, but he did obediently open up a small connection slot on his arm and allow Skyfire to upload whatever pain relief programme he could find. Which was a good start.

And then the shuttle moved his fingers down to the Seeker’s side.

Starscream flinched and clutched his wounds more tightly.

“G-Go away.”

“Let me take a look at least,” insisted Skyfire, frustrated. The protocols were quick to kick in, and he could see the pained coil of the Seeker’s frame beginning to loosen as they did so. “I’ve got some basic medical equipment I might be able to do something with. Just –” He glared when the Seeker’s shielding hands didn’t relent, and threw up his own hands in exasperation. “Let me help you!”

“A-As if I would trust _you_ in my frame!” The Decepticon sneered, shakily pushing himself up into a sitting position. “You just want to feel good about your _pathetic_ little morals, but unfortunately for you –” Here, he winced, hands moving immediately back down to his side, “– I can look after myself just fine.” 

“How?” The shuttle leaned back, folding his arms skeptically. “Don’t be so stubborn. You’ve got no equipment and you’ve lost a few litres of energon at least. If I don’t help you –”

“Autobot sentiments!” spat Starscream, his vents heaving. “I don’t _need_ the help of a traitor!”

Then he turned his head away, his faceplates contorting, and doubled over, purging noisily. More precious energon splashed sickeningly against the grass.

“Slag,” swore Skyfire, and pulled Starscream’s arm towards him forcefully, ignoring the miserable moan that followed the motion. He had already administered the maximum recommended dose of pain relief, but he uploaded another one anyway while the Seeker gagged and choked on his own life fluids. It took another few klicks for this programme to kick in, but finally, the Decepticon’s air cycles evened out, and he sank back, shaking, against the tree.

“Do you want help now?” asked the shuttle, not without a hint of sarcasm.

Starscream only turned his head, shuttering his optics with a whimper.

The shuttle took that as a yes. Sighing, he pulled out a scanner and gently pried the Seeker’s hand away from his injury.

Only to wish almost immediately that he could put it back.

The gash was deep. The surface armour had melted away almost entirely to reveal deeply intricate circuitry that would never normally be exposed to the atmosphere. Most of the wires were coated with glistening droplets of energon, some of the liquid already hardening into speckled jewels.

Skyfire cursed.

“How– Just how long have you _been_ here?” He demanded, unable to keep the horror from his voice. “Starscream, the energon’s crystallising around your fuel lines, and I can’t connect them up without removing the shards first. If any of the pieces get caught in your fuel pump –”

“Nngh… no…” moaned the Seeker, shaking his head minutely.

Skyfire glared. “This is for your own good,” he growled, dropping the scanner so he could pull out a flashlight and scalpel from the medical kit. “I know it’s going to hurt like slag, but that’s what you get for –”

He stopped himself, suddenly. For just one moment, he had been back on Cybertron –picking up the drunken Seeker from the back alley behind a club, or gently operating on acid-bitten fingers. For just one moment, he had been rebuking the Seeker just like any other orn.

For just one moment, he had wanted to say: ‘that’s what you get for not contacting me sooner’.

Starscream whined. “H-hurts…”

Skyfire shook his head. “I know,” he murmured, gentler now. Guilty. “But I don’t have the equipment for anaesthesia right now. Please just trust me. I’ll make it quick.”

Then he carefully poked the scalpel into the wound, and scraped.

Starscream _howled_. His back arched impossibly, his optics flaring white, and he shook and _screamed_ as though Skyfire had plunged a blade into his Spark instead. When he thudded back down on the ground his fans were shrieking, his vocaliser forming only garbled, static-laced sounds. 

Skyfire felt his Spark turn. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, meaning it, and reached out to touch the Seeker’s wings in a way that should have been comforting.

But Starscream flinched.

“P-Plea…s…e, n-no…” He whimpered. Pleading.

Skyfire hesitated.

On a purely intellectual level, he knew he was doing the right thing. The energon crystals had to be removed, no matter how painful the procedure, because if he didn’t the results could be fatal.

And yet, and yet.

His hands just couldn’t seem to stop shaking.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, and went in again. This time with a steadying hold against the Seeker’s cockpit. Again, the Decepticon shrieked, writhing helplessly under the forceful weight of the shuttle’s hand, the sounds pitiful, desperate, and broken. And this went on, and on, and on. Crumbling under the agony, the Seeker alternated between delirious begging and manic threats. Anything. If only the other would _stop_.

But the shuttle kept going, ploughing on with his task with a grim and unrelenting determination even as the Seeker shook and cried beneath his hands.

Then, suddenly, there was a lull, and Skyfire paused in the striking silence, his fingers coated with the Seeker’s energon. Starscream was looking up at him. Faceplates twisted. Optics burning.

“I hate you,” he breathed, a hoarse sound halfway between a whisper and a sob. “I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.”

“I know,” was all the shuttle could say. Then he picked up his scalpel and kept working.

* * *

Starscream fell into stasis at some point during the operation, which helped Skyfire’s progress immensely. With the energon crystals scraped clean, he was quickly able to reconnect the fuel lines, and to get to work repairing some of the more urgently sparking circuitry. While he was certainly no Ratchet, and his hands were large and cumbersome, he was intimately familiar with the Seeker’s frame and internal wiring, and that made the repair job a lot easier. He had always been the one to pick up the Seeker’s pieces, even back on Cybertron.

He was almost done welding the medical patch on when Starscream suddenly jerked back online and sat up, the movement so abrupt and startling that he knocked his head straight into Skyfire’s as he did so. 

The shuttle recoiled. Fell back on his aft again. The welder sparked and went out on the ground. Starscream, meanwhile, clutched his head, lips curled in a snarl.

But then his hand went to his side, and any hint of malice faded into faint surprise as his fingers explored the incomplete patchwork, gently tracing over the bumps of uneven welding.

When he looked back up at the shuttle, there was something odd in his expression.

“You did this?”

Skyfire lifted and dropped one shoulder. “Do you see anybody else?”

Starscream’s optics flashed, unreadable. Then he went back to inspecting himself. The shuttle felt the heavy weight of what he had just accomplished finally beginning to sink in as he waited. He felt so tired.

Eventually, the Seeker spoke again, apparently satisfied. “I see you haven’t planted anything on me,” he commented, his hands idly stroking the patch.

Skyfire grunted, too exhausted to register the unsubtle accusation. “I haven’t finished yet,” he murmured, and picked up the welder again. 

The Decepticon didn’t fight him this time, and the shuttle was able to finish off the rest of his repairs in silence. When he was done however, he was surprised to find the Seeker watching him, crimson optics quiet and contemplative. Again, an inspection – less thorough this time. Then the Seeker coughed.

“Your welding skills have improved.”

The shuttle blinked. Of all things, he hadn’t expected a comment like this. He looked back at the patch on the other mech’s side. It did look a lot better than it would have if he had attempted to do the same thing a few million years ago. “I watch Ratchet work sometimes,” he shrugged. “He taught me a lot. When I did it before it was all just –”

He stopped. It felt strange to talk about a ‘before’, but Starscream didn’t interrupt him or lash out, so he continued. “Before I guess I just… made it up.”

“Hmph.” The sound wasn’t quite amusement, but it wasn’t unfriendly either. “It will do.”

Silence fell. Awkward, but not entirely uncomfortable. Skyfire took the opportunity to slowly pack his equipment back into the medical kit, wondering all the while if he had really achieved anything meaningful. Starscream sat and watched him, not once offering to help.

“Why did you do this?”

The shuttle paused for a split-second, his hand hovering over the medical kit as though frozen. Almost immediately he caught himself and snapped back into motion again, flicking the latch shut and placing it back into his subspace.

This. The question he had been avoiding. He glanced away.

“You would have bled out otherwise.”

Starscream didn’t buy it for a single astro-second. “That’s not an answer,” he growled, frustration creasing his optic ridges.

Skyfire hesitated. “I couldn’t let you die.”

“You’re just saying the same thing differently,” insisted the Decepticon, optics narrowing. “ _Why_?”

“Why? Because –” Frustrated and cornered, the shuttle curled his hands into fists. “Because it’s the right thing to do. Because you needed help and I couldn’t just stand back and watch. Because…” He stopped, venting heavily. “Why do _you_ think I did this?”

He’d hoped, a little defensively, that this might get the Seeker to stop and think a bit. But the Decepticon simply stared straight back at him, unflinching.

“To beg for my forgiveness,” he answered immediately, his voice harsh and ironic. “To alleviate your sorry little conscience. To redeem the idea of yourself as some… _pathetic_ Autobot hero, after everything you did to me.”

“Really,” said Skyfire flatly. “Those are the only reasons you can think of. That’s why you think I did this.” Anger made his words quiver. He felt his vocaliser lock. 

The Seeker sneered, but didn’t quite meet the shuttle’s gaze. “You asked me.”

For just one astro-second, Skyfire felt as though his whole frame was burning, his processor a fuzz of incoherent rage and righteous indignance. He wanted to shout something obscene. Wanted to throw his hands up and just fly away – as he should have done from the very beginning.

Then as suddenly as it started, the anger faded, and he was left feeling even more hollowed than before.

This was what his logic circuits had warned him about, and now his Spark paid the price for it.

“Fine,” he managed to grit out, his voice echoing as though from a great distance. “Think what you like. It doesn’t matter anyway.”

_And it never should have._

He turned away a new mech. Wiser. Mournful. Determined to close the pages on a chapter he had lingered on for far too long.

“Goodbye, Starscream,” he muttered.

It was over.

But then it wasn’t. Even as he stepped away, he heard the Seeker stirring behind him. There was a scrambling. The scrape of metal wings against tree bark. Then suddenly, the all-too familiar hum of a pair of powered null-rays, pointed at his back.

“Wait,” said Starscream, with sudden, practiced authority.

Skyfire did, reluctantly, all too aware of the fact that he had left himself wide open. This was his repayment. This was the price of sentimentality.

“Turn around,” commanded the Seeker, with only a flicker of emotion.

Skyfire complied. Starscream was on his feet, guns poised, surprisingly uncompromised considering the state he had been in. Maybe he really _had_ improved his medical capabilities. If he had the energy for it, Skyfire would have laughed at the irony.

Starscream turned one of his hands over. “Give me the medical kit.”

Medical kit? All mirth disappeared. The shuttle pulled it out of his subspace, but against his better judgement couldn’t help but open his mouth before he handed it over. “Why do you want it?”

“Pain relief,” grunted the Decepticon with an impatient gesture. “Bring it over. Megatron knows how to slag a mech up and the ones you gave me earlier are starting to wear off.”

Megatron. The shuttle paused, musing at the kit in his hands. So he was right. It had been an internal conflict. Another powerplay, perhaps. His optics flitted back up to the Seeker. Unusual of him to offer up this information so willingly.

Starscream gestured again, but Skyfire held the medical kit back. “Megatron,” he repeated, testily. “He did this?”

“The usual,” the air commander sneered, then grimaced, his wings flickering to keep him balanced. “Every time I tell him his _glorious_ plan will fail, he –”

“Plan?” Instantly, Skyfire stiffened. Though his Spark still ached, _this_ was clearly important, and he wasn’t going to make the mistake of ignoring his logic circuits twice. “What plan? What’s Megatron up to?”

“His usual, aft-headed brutish stupidity,” spat the Seeker. Again he wavered, and he shifted his weight so that he was leaning against a nearby tree-trunk for support. His null rays dropped marginally. “The illiterate fool thinks he can stop the tectonic movements of the planet’s crust, and I said –”

“He what?!” Skyfire dropped the medical kit, too stunned to bother picking it back up. “That’s insane! How is that –?!”

“Well, maybe not quite insane,” interrupted Starscream, suddenly defensive. The null rays dropped completely and he glanced away. “Do you remember the isotropic matter equilibrium theory I was working on? The idea that all matter could be stabilised, brought to chemically perfect, symmetrical, and unreactive state, so that it can be safely studied through artificial simulation?”

“Yes,” murmured Skyfire, lost for a moment in the painful nostalgia of Starscream’s voice, uttering ‘ _science_ ’ to him again. “A chemical standstill, you called it.”

“Yes,” agreed Starscream, his faceplates twisting bitterly. “Well. I never could quite work out some of the finer details, and Shockwave caught wind of it, so he took it over.” He folded his arms, glowering. “Let’s say he took the idea of ‘standstill’ rather more literally.”

“Wait. You mean –” Skyfire stopped, gaping. “He… He made something that could stop the _tectonic plates_? But surely the magma underneath would still be active!”

“Well, even _Megatron_ knows that much at least,” grunted the Seeker, apparently unhappy at the idea of giving his leader even this much credit. His hand was on his side again, absent-mindedly touching the patches. “But he thinks he can harness the energy of the magma which would have otherwise been used to move the plates.”

“But that would be too much even for Cybertronian technology to control,” frowned Skyfire. Then the penny dropped. “We did pick up some strange seismic activity earlier in the orn. All that Decepticon activity –”

“A small-scale test run,” scoffed the Seeker derisively. “The old fragger wanted to rub Shockwave’s invention in my face-plates and I slagged him off for it.” His lips curled unpleasantly. “I pointed out that Shockwave hadn’t _actually_ addressed the fundamental issue with the equilibrium theory that _I_ had come across. Of course, he didn’t understand it. Then I called him some… choice names.” He waved a hand. “Then he shot me.”

“Oh. That’s right,” Skyfire stopped, optics widening. “It was… It was the timing.” The memories came flooding back. Nights in the labs. Heated discussions. The passionate gleam in Starscream's optics. “Even when stabilisation was induced, the matter could never sustain it long enough for a workable time-frame. It always returned to its original state in the end.”

“Right,” agreed Starscream, leaning back against the tree and shuttering his optics. “Shockwave worked out a way to extend the timeframe of stabilisation, but it’s… inconsistent. When it reaches its limit – whatever, or whenever that may be – it still goes back to its original form.” He winced, fingers tightening around his side. “But if Megatron’s using them on the tectonic plates –”

“The plates will be released when the equilibrium is broken,” realised Skyfire, with dawning horror. “And all the pressure underneath will be released simultaneously before the Decepticons get the chance to control it." He could scarcely believe what he saying. "That means earthquakes, tsunamis, and volcanic eruptions. All across the globe. In unprecedented magnitude and numbers.” It was too awful for words. “Everything will be destroyed.”

“Exactly,” growled Starscream, sullen. “That’s what I said.”

A moment of silence. Both fliers stared at the medical kit which lay, forgotten, on the ground between them.

It was Skyfire who started to life first. The logic circuits again, even as his own processor still reeled from the enormity of what he had just learned.

“I… I need to tell the others about this,” he said, awkwardly, glancing up into the sky. “We need to stop them. I… I have to –” He wasn’t quite sure what he was saying, or why he was saying them in the first place. Starscream was sitting back on the ground now, arms folded over his cockpit and his head bowed. “I’ll leave you the kit, if you need it.”

“Fine,” the Seeker growled, voice rough with static. He sounded tired too. “Whatever. I don’t care. Just leave the kit and get out.”

But the shuttle didn’t move. Not immediately. And though his logic circuits urged him, frantically, to fly back to the Ark, this time, he chose to ignore it. Somehow, his Spark had won. Had been right all along.

“I’ll come back for you,” he said. Quiet but determined. “Once we stop him. I’ll come back for you.”

Starscream’s optics flickered online, and, very briefly, Skyfire imagined that the Seeker would look at him as he once did, and say ‘yes’.

But then the Decepticon threw back his head and the fantasy shattered with the sound of his laughter. A harsh, cruel sound that the Starscream of his memories never made.

“Do you really think,” asked the Seeker, pointed and practical, as always, “that I would sit here and wait for you to rescue me?”

Skyfire knew the answer, but still he looked away.

"I’ll come back anyway,” he repeated. A duty. A promise.

The right thing to do. 

Behind him, Starscream laughed again. Softer, sadder. He knew the answer too.

“You’re such an idiot,” was all he said in the end. Then he closed his optics.

* * *

_And true to his word, Skyfire returned after the battle._

_And true to his unspoken one, Starscream was gone._ _Gone with him was every evidence that their exchange had taken place. All their anger, all their hate. All their understanding, all their hopes._

_Skyfire stared into the emptiness, then turned and let the clouds and the sky swallow him, let them take with him the very last shred of that shared moment. He would never speak of that memory again._

_He failed to notice a lone medical kit lying, still untouched, among the grass._


End file.
